


Minor Malfunctions

by MeetMeInThePIt



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Altered Mental States, Begging, Dubious Consent, M/M, Masturbation in Bathroom, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 19:29:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15226260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeetMeInThePIt/pseuds/MeetMeInThePIt
Summary: One day Connor finds strange things happening to his body. Not finding any particular source of the problem in his system, he hopes it will just pass.But will it?





	Minor Malfunctions

  
There has been something wrong with Connor since early morning.

  
He ran a general system check but it showed nothing out of the ordinary.  
  
His limbs feel... heavier than usual. It is a bit harder to move for some reason. 

He runs another check. Locomotion system shows green. Everything else shows green too.  
  
He doesn’t remember anything like that happening to him before. There was the one time he got his Thirium pump ripped out during the investigation, but it was... different. And much more intense. There was also the time he got locked in his mind palace, but it didn’t happen in the physical world.  
  
Connor searches his inner database for a possible cause of the problem but finds nothing.  
  
Can it be the Amanda programming coming back, slowly trying to overtake his body again? Seems highly unlikely, it has been such a long time since the android uprising happened. If it was her, he would have noticed her presence in other subsystems and he’d feel the connection to the CyberLife cloud-  
  
“--rist’s sake, Connor!!”

Connor is standing at the door of Hank’s house. There’s a light snow, the front yard is almost completely white now, some of the snowflakes are softly landing on Connor’s hair and shoulders.  
Lieutenant is staring at him from his car, looking  impatient. The rumble of the old car engine and Hank’s blaring music are the only sounds filling the calm, empty street.  
  
“Have you run low on batteries or something? Get in already!”  
“Apologies, Lieutenant!” Connor shouts before hurrying to the car and quickly hopping in.  
“Are you alright there?” says Hank, sounding genuinely concerned.  
“I-  yeah, yeah, all good.” Connor nods and quickly looks away, staring at the suburbs outside, trying not to look suspicious. He doesn’t want to discuss this with Hank. It’s not important enough to worry the old man. Connor can take care of it himself.  
  
Hank looks at him for another couple of seconds, then just shrugs and starts driving. Connor doesn’t make eye contact and tries to enjoy the music.

They are at the police station in less than half an hour. It’s a pretty normal day, it’s rather slow this early in the morning. A few people in the lobby briefly interrupt what they are doing to greet the two men.

Hank grumbles something back at them, Connor tries to be his normal polite self and greet them as well but... suddenly cannot say a world. His throat feels tight, like something is squeezing it from the inside. Why does it feel tight? It’s not supposed to be like that. He pauses, unsure of what he is experiencing. People in front of him look at Connor for a couple of moments, waiting. Understanding that he has to somehow react now, Connor momentarily panics, quickly nods to them and hurries to catch up with Hank. Is his heart beating faster?  
  
Hank gets called to Captain Fowler’s office shortly after they arrive and Connor is left to sit alone at his desk. Alone with himself, and the strange sensations that he is experiencing.  
  
He still feels heavy and doesn’t know why. The tightness in his throat lessens a little, but it’s still there.  And his heart beating much faster than it is necessary is probably the strangest thing out of them all. Connor blinks a couple of times. Takes out his coin and just holds it in his hand for a moment, trying to concentrate. He makes a couple of weak coin flips, trying to calm down. He is fine. The system checks haven’t revealed anything out of the ordinary, so it will probably pass after a while. If it doesn’t, he’ll just go and inquire about the problem to CyberLife. Let’s just get back to work.  
  
Connor scans a couple of new files on his computer, makes some notes and uploads them to Hank’s pc for the man to review later.  
Shorty after Hank comes back from Captain Fowler’s office. As he’s about to sit down at his desk he pauses for a second, looking at Connor with a puzzled gaze.  
  
“You look kinda... off.”  
  
Connor raises his eyebrows, pretending he doesn’t understand what Lieutenant is talking about.  
  
“Err... forget about it.” The man seems to buy it.  
  
The rest of the day continues as usual for a while. Connor is glad he manages to keep his _body_ situation under control. Maybe it’s not that bad after all.  
  
At some point his gaze trails off. He looks around the room, observing what all the people are up to. He remembers Hank calling it “people watching”. What a strange, yet fitting name.  
His gaze and his mind wander until they find... him.  
Reed.  
For some reason his attention freezes on Detective Gavin Reed.  
  
It’s been a while since the android uprising happened and androids gained equal rights as humans. Most of the people at DPD have accepted Connor as their equal, but Reed, oh no, he just wouldn’t let his aggression go for one reason or another. A petty remark here, a snarky comment there, a nudge, a shove, a push. Even when Reed wasn’t actively trying to bully the synthetic man, Connor could often find him staring from across the room with an intense, yet unreadable expression.

  
But right now the man isn't looking at him. He seems deep in thought, busy with the work at his desk. There’s a little furrow between his brows, and there is an... intelligent expression on his face. Truth be told, Detective Reed is a fascinating creature, despite all his faults. His hair is unkempt, a particular lock of hair always off. His facial hair is always stubbly, never clean-shaven, never a beard. His face could be considered attractive by human standards and his lips... his. lips.  
  
Connor feels something strange happening in his mouth.

And he just cannot look away.  
Is Connor licking his own lips? Maybe he does, but for whatever reason he currently doesn’t have the computing capacity to actually pay attention to such things. He... He...  
**Shit.**  
He looks up.  
Gavin is looking back.  
No, he’s _staring_ back.  
  
Connor looks away as fast as he can. He’s getting a few warning signs from several of his subsystems. What was that?! He has to calm down. He has to calm down right now and go apologize to Detective Reed for inappropriate behavior and-  
Wait.  
He feels... hot. He’s not supposed to feel hot. Why is this happening? Connor panics as different sensations overwhelm him all at the same time. His heart, the heat, his throat, his limbs. No, no, no, what is going on?  
He cannot stay here, not like this. He has to get away. Now.  
  
Connor stands up as calmly as he possibly can. He pushes in his chair. Where could he go? He quickly scans the room. The bathroom, he can hide in the bathroom! He immediately starts walking in that direction (no running, walk slowly, just don’t run). He hears Hank’s voice somewhere behind him, but doesn’t quite register what the man says. He just has to keep moving, and preferably _fast_.  
Once in the bathroom he finds a free stall and quickly locks himself inside. He puts his back against the door and slides down onto the ground.  
This is... unbearable. What is going on?  
He feels heavy, he feels hot, his clothes are suddenly too tight for him, despite being perfectly fit.  
He rips off his tie, undoes a couple of buttons of his dress shirt. It seems to help a little.  
He doesn’t know what is happening. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know anything anymore.  
_Gavin._  
_Those lips._  
And then comes the strongest sensation yet. The heat and the weight spreading through his body, down his belly and reaching their peak in his groin region.  
Connor lets out a _moan_.  
Why? Why? Please, no! He was not designed to deal with anything like this.  
  
There’s a sound of steps approaching and then Hank’s voice comes from behind the door.  Connor bites his lip and stays as quiet and still as he can. He can hear his synthetic heart beating in his ears.  
Hank must not know. Under any circumstances.  
  
Connor waits. Hank calls Connor a couple of times, stays there for a moment. Connor shuts his eyes, waiting for whatever is about to happen. After some time there’s a sound of steps again. Hank leaves.  
  
Connor slowly opens his eyes. He looks down. He sees a bulge in his pants.  
No.  
No, please.  
There is nothing but... a heavy desire in him. The desire that until recently he didn’t even know he could experience is burning through him. The more he waits the stronger it gets and it actually begins to hurt after a while.  
  
His mind wanders back to Gavin. And then to so many other things. Things he’s not supposed to, not programmed to think of. It’s so low, and so... indecent, but Connor can’t help it.

Connor has to do something. No, he _wants_ to do something.  
  
He reaches down and touches his hard member through his pants. A strong sensation rips through him like an electric shock. Connor gasps. He touches it again, rubs it, slow, but hard. A whimper escapes his lips. He’s so sensitive, why is he so sensitive? He’s not supposed to-

He thinks of being used. He imagines hands, many hands on him, all over him. He can't run away, can't hide from them, he's so exposed.

The synthetic boy unzips his pants, noticing how his hands are suddenly shaking. He pulls the pants down to reveal his hard, slender, blue-ish cock. The lubricant fluid has already began leaking out of the tip quite heavily and there is now a prominent wet spot on the front of Connor’s pants. He reaches down to touch himself, grips his cock firmly, taking a moment to just _feel_ everything. It’s amazing, it feels so sweet and perfect.  
  
He imagines being touched by the hands. Touched inappropriately. 

Connor begins to stroke himself.  
  
He also imagines the voices. Voices telling him filthy things he can barely make out. Voices encouraging him, telling him he’s beautiful, that he’s doing a good job.  
  
Connor can barely contain his increasingly desperate sounds.  
  
The hands are in his hair and the voices tell him what a pretty doll he is. And he wants nothing more than to please, to be used like a toy. And to receive pleasure himself. Lots and lots of pleasure everywhere. Drowning him all at once.  
  
Connor strokes himself hard, pumping his hand vigorously. This is wild and insane and it’s the best, sweetest thing he has ever experienced. He can see little bright white glitches and sparks appear in his system.  
  
“Fuck me, please fuck me.” He hears his own voice inside his head. He feels growing slickness between his legs and he isn’t sure if it’s in his imagination, in actuality or both. He thinks of things on him and things inside him. Deep inside him. “Yes, yes, thank you.”  
  
His pleasure grows exponentially fast and it spreads in his every subsystem like a wildfire. He can’t control it, can’t contain it, and he doesn’t want to. He’s full to the brim and he’s about to burst, to spill-  
  
“I’m gonna cum. Please, may I cum?” The image in his imagination becomes blurry, he can’t really comprehend what’s going on and how, but he loves it. It feels like heaven, it’s everything he could possibly ever need, everything he could desire.  
  
Connor looks down at himself, at his cock, at the lubricant fluid and the mess he has made. He wants to come so badly but he can’t, not yet...  
  
“Oh are you?” He hears a familiar voice, but can’t make out who it belongs to. “Do you think you deserve it?”  
Connor pants and nods vigorously. Everything is so good, but it’s too much, just unbearable. It’s almost torture at this point. **Please.**  
  
“Okay on count three... _One._ ”  
  
Connor is desperately fucking his hand. He wants release. Nothing but release.  
  
_“Two.”_  
  
Several warnings pop up in his system among little glitches everywhere. Connor doesn’t care, cannot care anymore. There’s something of immense power building up in him, about to reach a boiling point. Come on, please, he’s so close! _Please!_  
  
_“Three.”_  
  
Everything freezes.  
Connor’s vision turns white. The dozens of warnings and notifications go dead quiet. Connor doesn’t think anymore. Everything stops existing, even himself. There’s just _it_. The sensation that no words out of all 300 languages Connor knows can explain.  
A raspy cry escapes his lips, voice lagging.  
The orgasm hits Connor like a tsunami. He comes for what feels like forever. Comes hard, impossibly hard. He can vaguely feel light blue, almost white fluids spilling out of him wildly, covering his hand and his shirt and the floor. There’s no beginning to it nor any end. There are tears in Connor’s eyes.  
  
Then it fades away and everything goes dark.

 

* * *

 

Connor goes back online and slowly opens his eyes. There are a few red notifications in front of his eyes, but he doesn’t have the concentration to actually read what they say. How long has he been offline? He checks his inner clock. He’s been out for only a couple of minutes.  
Connor looks down on himself…only to find his member hard again.  
As his senses return to normal one by one he feels the desire begin to burn in him stronger and stronger. With a small whine Connor realizes that it’s going to be a very long day.

 

**Author's Note:**

> °˖✧ Stay tuned for the next chapter! ✧˖°  
> An angry, frustrated guest enters Connor's horny, horny life!


End file.
